


Don't Lie, Bright Eyes

by tookumade



Series: Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - 2017 [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Dialogue Heavy, Fluff, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 17:52:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11628780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tookumade/pseuds/tookumade
Summary: “Where do you see yourself in twenty years?”It’s nearly one in the morning and Matsukawa, tucked up comfortably in bed next to Hanamaki, is on the verge of drifting off into blissful sleep when the question stirs him.“Why are you trying to give me a late-night existential crisis?” he mumbles.(written for Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - Day 4 - leaving home)





	Don't Lie, Bright Eyes

“Where do you see yourself in twenty years?”  
  
It’s nearly one in the morning and Matsukawa, tucked up comfortably in bed next to Hanamaki, is on the verge of drifting off into blissful sleep when the question stirs him.  
  
“Why are you trying to give me a late-night existential crisis?” he mumbles.  
  
“Just answer the question, Issei.”  
  
“Can’t we have an existential crisis over pancakes in the morning?”  
  
“No, I’m gonna forget.”  
  
“Good. Go to sleep.” Matsukawa grunts in protest when Hanamaki jabs him in the ribs. “Why is this so important that it can’t wait?”  
  
There’s a pause. Matsukawa half-hopes Hanamaki had simply fallen back to sleep in the span of five seconds, but alas.  
  
“We never really talk about our long-term goals,” says Hanamaki slowly. “We talk a lot more about stuff for the near-future—”  
  
“Isn’t that okay, though?”  
  
“Sure. But I want to know what you think about the longer-term future.”  
  
There’s another pause. Matsukawa considers letting himself fall asleep anyway and leaving Hanamaki hanging, but the odd churning in his stomach is keeping him awake.  
  
“Well, what do _you_ want to do in twenty years?” Matsukawa asks.  
  
“Jackass, I asked first,” Hanamaki grumbles.  
  
“Which is why you should answer first.”  
  
“Aw, come on.” Matsukawa feels Hanamaki shift a little so he’s more comfortable, and then feels his warm hand reach out to wrap around Matsukawa’s wrist loosely. Matsukawa moves his hand until their fingers are laced together, navigating through the darkness.  
  
“In twenty years..." Hanamaki begins, a half-sigh, “I want to have enough money so that we can live in a really nice cosy apartment closer to the city. It’ll be high up enough that we can see the view of the city at night. And it’ll have two bedrooms, so we can share one or have one each whenever we want our own space, and friends can stay over if they need a place to crash. I’d also like a cat but it’ll probably like you more than me, plus it might pee on everything so... I’m not sure.” Matsukawa laughs a little. Hanamaki nudges him with his knee. “That’s me. Your turn, now.”  
  
Matsukawa stifles a yawn for a moment before saying, “I want the same.”  
  
Another pause. He can almost hear Hanamaki frowning through the darkness as he shifts again so he’s a little closer to Matsukawa this time.  
  
“Liar,” says Hanamaki.  
  
“Hm? I’m—”  
  
“I’ve known you for years, dumbass. I’ve been dating you for ages, too. Do you really think I haven’t learnt to tell when you’re lying? Don’t insult my finely-polished skill.”  
  
“Your attention to detail is impeccable.”  
  
“If that was sarcasm, I’m not taking the bait.”  
  
“Your finely-polished skills don’t detect sarcasm?”  
  
“Never mind, I’m taking the bait. I’m gonna smother you with your damn pillow.”  
  
But Matsukawa begins to laugh, quietly, and Hanamaki follows suit. It’s moments like these that Matsukawa loves the most: this easy banter, this comfortable sleepiness, this intimate peace shared between just the two of them. He allows himself to enjoy every nanosecond of it, before—  
  
“Issei,” Hanamaki mumbles, “tell me.”  
  
It’s Matsukawa’s turn to shift a little and half sigh.  
  
“I want... to live somewhere quieter, probably further away from the city,” he says. “Maybe somewhere in the countryside, but I’ll probably get bored, so maybe just a nice suburb instead... also, not too far from a train station, so it’s convenient if we want to travel. I want a nice medium-sized house with a big yard, and I want to have two dogs. One will be called Koko, because I’ve always wanted a dog called Koko.” He hears Hanamaki snicker softly. “I haven’t thought about the other one yet. That’s what I want down the track.”  
  
“But that all sounds really nice,” says Hanamaki. “Why didn’t you want to tell me that?”  
  
The odd churning in Matsukawa’s stomach intensifies. His hand holds Hanamaki’s a little tighter.  
  
“Because I knew it’d be so different to yours,” he murmurs.  
  
Outside, they can hear the occasional cars pass by on late-night drives. An owl hoots in the distance. The silence between them is suddenly unbearably louder.  
  
“If what we both want twenty years from now is so different, what happens to us?” Matsukawa continues, voice low and soft.  
  
“Dumbass,” says Hanamaki, oddly reassuringly. He pulls his hand from Matsukawa’s so he can rest it on his waist instead, and Matsukawa mimics him; the weight of their hands are warm and comforting. “Just because it’s different, doesn’t mean you have to pretend to want the same.”  
  
“I know,” says Matsukawa. “But it’s hard.”  
  
“It doesn’t have to be. Twenty years is a long time. We’ll change. We’ll want new things. And we can compromise; we’ve always been pretty good at that.”  
  
Matsukawa hums. “That’s… true.”  
  
“Can you imagine it? One dog, one cat, but they’ll both still like you more than they like me.” Matsukawa snickers. “Space-wise, something in between, like a bigger apartment, or maybe a small-ish house. Maybe somewhere hilly, with a good view of the city, if we don’t live in the city itself—and like you said, close to a train station so we can travel. And if we can’t have a big garden, maybe it can be near a nice park. Things like that. What do you think?”  
  
“That does sound really nice,” says Matsukawa with a smile that Hanamaki can’t see through the dark, but can hear.  
  
“See?” says Hanamaki. “It’s way too early for either of us to be stressing about things like that.”  
  
“You caught me off-guard,” Matsukawa whines, joking. Hanamaki pulls himself closer and presses a kiss to his hair.  
  
“I think catching you off-guard every now and then isn’t a bad thing, right?”  
  
“Jackass.” Matsukawa buries his face against Hanamaki’s chest with a comfortable sigh. “But I guess you’re not wrong.” For a moment, they quieten, with Hanamaki running his fingers through Matsukawa’s hair. This is much better—this is more honest.  
  
“I have never been worried about us,” Hanamaki murmurs, “so don’t dull your light, especially not for my sake. We both deserve a lot more than that.”  
  
Matsukawa huffs a laugh. “Honestly, you call me out on my bullshit often enough, I don’t think I could _dull my light_ for long, even if I tried. ”  
  
“Good,” says Hanamaki. “Because I talk about my thoughts and dreams and future plans and stuff all the time, but I love hearing about yours, too. You know that, right? I love everything that makes you, _you_. So… be honest with me. That’s all I need. And then, ten years later, twenty years, fifty years—I think we can continue on, and we’ll still be just fine.”  
  
Matsukawa doesn’t reply for a while, but his hand on Hanamaki’s waist, lightly clutching a fistful of his shirt, relaxes, and he adjusts his arm a little.  
  
“Pancakes for breakfast,” he murmurs into Hanamaki’s chest, “and I’ll tell you about the dream holiday I’ve been wanting since we started uni.”  
  
“The Europe trip?”  
  
“No, South Asia.”  
  
“You never mentioned that.” Matsukawa can hear the smile in Hanamaki’s voice.  
  
“I know. So I’m starting there.”  
  
“That sounds good.”  
  
There’s another quiet, peaceful moment. Matsukawa considers drifting off, but…  
  
“You know something?” he says.  
  
“Tell me,” says Hanamaki.  
  
“It’s… I never worry for long when I’m with you. I think it’s less _dulling my light_ , and more like, you shine bright enough for both of us.”  
  
“Wait, how did this get turned to me?”  
  
“Catching you off-guard every now and then is okay, right?”  
  
“Oh my god.” But Hanamaki laughs. “I guess. This is pretty okay. But, hey, you shine really bright too, dumbass.”  
  
“Stop,” says Matsukawa. “Ugh, we’ll keep going on and on like this forever.”  
  
“Okay, okay.” Hanamaki shifts a little and kisses his temple, and says, softer: ”I’ll keep reminding you, though. But, sleep, now. Pancakes for breakfast. And then you can tell me about South Asia.”  
  
“Existential crisis over?”  
  
“We’re too chill for an existential crisis.”  
  
“That’s true.”  
  
“Goodnight, Issei. Sleep well.”  
  
“Sweet dreams, Takahiro. Goodnight.”


End file.
